Tummy Troubles
by Kimmychu
Summary: Some things just aren’t meant to be eaten. DannyFlack!


**Tummy Troubles**

Fandom: CSI:NY

Author: Kimmychu

Rating: FRT

Pairing: Danny/Flack

Content Warning: Might trigger tummy ache sympathies.

Spoilers: Just for episode 2x15, Fare Game.

Summary: Some things just aren't meant to be eaten. Danny/Flack!

Disclaimer: The fried spider belongs to me. No, wait. I don't have a pet spider. Yeah, that's right. The two detectives belong to me instead. Uh hmm.

**( Oooo …... oooO )**

Author's Notes: Something for Thanksgiving, although where I am, it's technically not celebrated. Heh. Anybody who's eaten something they shouldn't have and had a nice, long visit with Mr. Toilet ought to relate to this short story, bwahah! I was going to upload this much earlier, but couldn't until now.

**( Oooo …... oooO )**

Watching Danny slithering on the floor from the bathroom doorway towards his bed, it was all Flack could do to not laugh.

"You okay, Danno?" Flack bit his lower lip to stop himself from grinning. Leaned over the edge of the bed to gaze down at the CSI on the floor.

Danny was lying face down with his arms spread out on either side, merely a foot away from the bed. Unlike other nights when he was usually naked, he was wearing a pair of black pajama pants, all rumpled and waistband askew, exposing one of his hips.

" … I can't feel my ass." Danny's whine was muffled. " … think I left it … on the toilet seat."

The homicide detective permitted himself an amused grin. Danny was down there on the floor anyway. He was safe from the shorter man's chicken legs while he was up on the bed.

"See, Danny, that's what ya get for eatin' _fried spiders _and _live baby octopi _and other icky _insects."_

Danny groaned aloud. "Shaddup."

Flack snickered softly to himself. As evil as it was, he couldn't help wondering with glee if the CSI newcomer from Montana was going through the same gastronomical torment Danny was. If she did, that's what she got for stealing Flack's dinner time with his lover.

Not to mention he was going to keep imagining all sorts of weird insects living inside Danny's mouth.

Although they were all cooked to death before Danny ate them.

And had already _very_ likely … shown themselves out through Danny's other end.

Flack shuddered at the terrifying imagery that popped into his mind, and shook his head hard to rid himself of it. _Gyaaaah_. Stupid insects. Some things just weren't meant to be eaten.

Flack peered over the edge of the bed once more.

"Ya need help down there?"

Danny simply whimpered. It looked like the CSI had no intentions of moving from his face-down position the floor, as uncomfortable as it was.

Flack lithely swung his lanky legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself upright. He was suddenly struck by a mischievous impulse, and he quickly used the toes of his left foot to poke at Danny's head and ruffle the man's hair. He had to admit he got a little worried when Danny didn't respond with anything more than a distressed moan.

Wow. Maybe that yucky fried spider the guy ate really _was_ poisonous or something.

The homicide detective shook his head and made a _tsk_ sound.

Flack stood up. For an minute, he had to battle the sudden urge to sprawl on the floor and lick at the bared smooth skin of Danny's hip.

"What am I gonna do with ya? Little brat," Flack said with not a small amount of affection.

Working out at the Y with Danny was apparently paying off in spades. The taller detective lifted Danny to his feet with ease, muscular arms wrapped around the CSI's chest and midriff. Danny was all limp and heavy, and it started to truly concern Flack. What if the exotic takeaway food had gone bad and Danny didn't know it and ate it anyway? What if -

Then Flack saw the impish smirk on the other man's face.

"Why, _you_ -"

Danny's amused laughter rang in the bedroom even as he was flung onto the bed, bouncing from the impact. Flack was instantly on top of him, flattening him on the bedspread and pillows.

"Think you're _funny_, do ya? Trickin' me into thinkin' you were really _sick_ -" Flack skillfully dug his fingers into Danny's flanks and flat stomach, tickling his lover for all its worth.

"I am!" Danny's attractive face was red. "Ya think I - I'd fake -" - he laughed uncontrollably as Flack tickled him along his ribs - "Goin' to the toilet _ten times _… in a _row?!_"

"And it happens to be _my_ toilet too!"

Danny's cackling increased in volume at Flack's vehement statement. He was laughing so much, his blue eyes were scrunched shut.

Flack couldn't help laughing along with the shorter detective. Danny had a _very_ infectious laugh, particularly when he wasn't holding it in or was self-conscious.

"My butt really hurts," Danny murmured, after Flack had ceased his tickling torture. "I'm never gonna eat that _exotic_ crap ever again."

Flack now lay on his back, with Danny on top of him. He remained silent for a while. Then, while Danny was nuzzling his face into his neck, the homicide detective asked in nonchalance, "So, uh … are we still gonna have sex?"

Danny stiffened.

Flack wasn't quite sure what happened after that. All he knew the next morning was, he wasn't going to go to the beach in his thong anytime soon, not with the two footprints on both sides of his buttocks.

And yeah. He _so _had to get a more comfy, back-friendly couch.

**Fin.**


End file.
